


history behind his eyes

by icenaan (nilscellania)



Category: Pirate101 (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Feels, F/M, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Multi, Multiple Partners, Pining, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:22:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27198439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nilscellania/pseuds/icenaan
Summary: Julien still chases after the shadows of his past in the people he keeps.
Relationships: Julien/Ammy, Julien/Various
Kudos: 3





	history behind his eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Day 20 of wiztober, prompt is 'history'! This one's pretty steamy so fair warning, lol.

When Julien first lied with another ( _the first of many_ ), he was sixteen and going through the motions.  
  


The girl he met was around his age and worked at the tavern he regularly eats and drinks at. She was a pretty little thing who caught his eye multiple times before, especially with the way her burgundy curls fell over her shoulder as she leaned over to pass out meals or clean up tables. But Julien will only glance at and not really call out to her until that one night where he's alone, downing shot after shot _after shot_ in order to drown out the red stains and still heartbeats that were stuck to his mind like chewing gum on hot cobblestones.  
  


She was the one who came up to Julien first, asking if he was alright with brown eyes ( _not teal_ ) looking at him in concern. He merely shrugged at her, not in the mood to interact with anyone— _not even his own friends_ —but he couldn't stop staring at her hair. It was long and shiny and had the shade of wine, and he wanted to run his fingers through it and feel, _tug_ on the strands.  
  


 _'It's not as silky, though,'_ the young pirate thought as he pinned her against the back door of the tavern. She kept sighing and calling for more as he marked kisses into her neck and took in the sweet scent of her skin, of her _hair_. _'And it doesn't smell like mangoes or skysalt.'  
  
_

But that was fine with Julien, he knew how to make do. If he closed his eyes, putting all his focus onto skin and heat, as their silhouettes bump and grind and meld with the moonlit sky, then it was easy for him to pretend.

* * *

Having slept with as many people as he did, Julien honestly doesn't remember most of them, their faces and voices blending into one, blurry memory.  
  


There was this partner, though, a very memorable one he encountered in Flotsam when he was seventeen. They kept their hair cut short and wore baggy clothing to leave others wondering and pondering about what they are. _"But not that it matters to you,"_ they snickered to him, hips wiggling a bit to assist him with pulling down their oddly sewn skirt-slacks (or skircks, as they called it). They were in one of One-Eyed Jack's rental cabins, awfully cramped with a hard bed, and sunlight streaming through a small window and across their bodies. _"Just as long as you feel good, right?"  
  
_

 _"Same can be said for you,"_ Julien remarked, returning the playful smirk that settled on their lips. They had nice lips, plump and bow-like, colored in honey lipstick ( _not cherry_ ). It made them already look wet and gleaming, and he was curious to see if it tasted like honey too. _"You wouldn't have let me into your bed otherwise."  
  
_

Later, he realized, while sticking his tongue into their mouth and tracing his fingers over certain parts of their body that made them jump, that their lipstick didn't have much of a honey flavor at all. It still looked nice on their lips, though, just not as nice as a _cherry_ color would have.

* * *

Julien knew he was pretty scummy for an eighteen-year-old—he worked for the mafia, for god's sake—so it wasn't a surprise that he'd act the same when it comes to his relationships.  
  


But to be fair, it wasn't like he _meant_ to steal another man's girl, much less one who recently gave birth (happens to young couples all the time in Scrimshaw); he just happened to be in the right place at the right time when he stopped her lover from hitting her. It was also _her_ who wanted to give him something in thanks, and when she batted her lashes and pressed her _sinfully_ curvy body against his, well— how can he be a gentleman if he denied her in her time of need? Not like that guy was going to come around any time soon.  
  


She talked about her son, voice hoarse from all the panting and moaning, her head tucked under Julien's chin as he gently traced his fingers over the curves of her backside. She said his name was Ellis, and though he was an accident that never meant to happen, she still fell in love with him and resolved to care for him as best as she could. He was pretty quiet for a baby, but he also drooled a lot and was attached to the poorly-crafted rat doll she made for him.  
  


Julien admitted to her that he didn't know much about kids or being a parent— _sometimes he could still see his father's eyes, golden like his, rolled all the way back with his mouth opened in shock and dripping with blood_ —so the only thing he could think about was how hard it must be for her. She laughed at that, agreeing with a nod, before moving up to kiss him. He let her go on top of him and groaned in arousal, admiring her curves once more by running his palms over them, then gripping tightly.  
  


After that night, the pirate would drop some money on her to use for herself and her baby from time to time. His crewmates aren't sure why he does that, his only response being a shrug and, _"why not?"  
  
_

She's a good mother, and good women like her deserve to have _some_ luxury in their life, right? (Not to mention that _body_ of hers, those hips and ass— yet, her touch wasn't as _warm_ as he thought it would be).

* * *

Julien's not sure when he started to crave his captive.  
  


He only caught his interest because he was being a pest and begging him to be let into the crew— _"the only place that I feel is worthwhile is by your side!"_ —so he took him in just to make him shut up.  
  


Then over time, for some reason, Julien couldn't stop looking at him; whether he's twirling a pink hair strand around his finger, or chewing on his bottom lip while deep in thought, or tracing his baby-blues over the skyways in awe. He wonders if it's because he hasn't taken on a new squeeze ever since he and the others resolved to find the El Dorado map pieces, and they haven't the luxury of staying in one spot long enough to familiarize themselves with it and the people there (plus, there's only _so_ much he can do with one hand).  
  


Maybe Julien should try him out and take him to bed, if only so these can weird cravings can finally stop. He's not that bad-looking anyway ( _the_ exact _type he looks for in his partners_ ), and there's _no_ way he'd refuse when he already makes those flushed expressions around him. Then once he hits it and quits it, he can go back to thinking about _more_ important things, like what their next destination is or how to avoid meeting the Armada at said destination.  
  


 _'Dumbass,'_ he curses to himself, scowling as he, once again, catches himself watching the object of his annoyance, who sat all the way at the forecastle deck and mended his favorite red coat with gold thread ( _"for good luck!"_ ). _'What're you going to do after your frustration's satiated? It's not like you can drop him off somewhere without the others questioning you.'  
  
_

The _Shatterhands_ captain groans, leaning against the ship's wheel and grabbing onto his head, tousling his own hair. He hopes that the day Ammy (somehow) pays off his debt to them is soon, so that he can leave and then he won't have to watch, think— _crave_ for him anymore.

* * *

_(I'm afraid to fall, especially when it's falling towards you.)_


End file.
